Ghost Town: Garnet
by xenascully
Summary: Bobby sends the boys to Missoula to check out a possible case. Sam thinks it could be a ghost. Dean thinks it's not their kinda case. Turns out they're both a little off...


**AN: Set in earlier seasons, no particular time frame, but before anyone went to Hell.**

 **For my SPN Reading Room group.**

 ***~.~***

The boys had been drawn to Missoula, Montana after a tip from Bobby about some tourists gone missing after visiting Garnet, a preserved ghost town in the area. They'd taken the tour with a group of other people once they got there. Everything had seemed pretty normal. No EMF readings or strange smells or cold spots. If Dean hadn't been so excited about the tour itself, he'd have been pissed about the waste of a drive.

So Sam had taken to going over some articles about the disappearances."Dude...did Bobby know that none of them actually went missing while on the tour?"

"He said _after_ the tour, Sam," Dean replied.

"Yeah as in after the tour they went back to their motels and when the people they were with got up the next day, they were just gone. All their stuff was still there, but no note or anything left behind."

"Well first things first. We did the tour. Now we go back to the motel."

"And do what? Wait around for a ghost to show up?"

"We ain't sure it's a ghost yet, Sam."

"Dean..." He let out a frustrated breath.

"We watch out the window, listen for anything weird. Then we go from there."

"Assuming this isn't a case of runaways, you mean."

"Hey, regardless what it is, that's all we can do at this point. Unless you wanna rent a cabin and stay right here. Or sneak back later and just kinda...stake out the place."

"Well that doesn't make sense," Sam said, shaking his head. "If they disappear from the motel, why would we wait here? There's nothing that says they even _end up_ here."

"Seems like it has something to do with this place," Dean said with a shrug. "So what, you wanna split up? I'll hang here and you can-"

"No. We don't split up. We've got no idea what we're dealing with. No bodies and no readings. Whatever it is could be something we've never dealt with before."

"Or it could be humans," Dean suggested.

"Or that, yes."

"But we don't leave until we know one way or another."

"Which could land us here for weeks," Sam commented.

"Cool. They've got snowmobile rentals starting Thursday," Dean said excitedly. Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep a small grin from his face.

They ended up back at the motel, most of the lights out as Dean sat by the window on one side of the closed curtains. He had it open just enough to keep an eye out. Sam was on the farthest bed with his laptop on his thighs, the glow from the screen revealing Sam's expression of frustrated concentration.

"Any luck?" Dean asked, already knowing the probable answer, but attempting to pull Sam away from the screen for a moment or two.

"There's nothing about this town that I can find. Nothing supernatural I mean. Unless you wanna count a groundskeeper hearing music and laughter coming from the old pub building we saw on the tour."

"Groundskeeper still around?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "No idea. There's not a name listed. Guess we could ask tomorrow."

"Or we could go back up there tonight and see if we can't bump into him."

"Access is closed up there at night, Dean. Bumping into the groundskeeper would get us kicked out permanently, if not arrested."

"Or he could be the one makin' people disappear."

"Which wouldn't be our kinda job," Sam said with a sigh.

"We could give an anonymous tip to the local PD, then head out?"

"Based on what evidence?"

"Man, I dunno," Dean replied in a whiny tone. "I'm just getting antsy sittin' in here doin' nothin'. I think it's stupid we can't go back up there and poke around that ghost town at night so we can go off the tour path and explore a bit."

Sam got a thoughtful look on his face. "What if you aren't the only one?"

"Huh?"

"What if these people went missing _because_ they snuck out at night to go explore the ghost town?"

"You think the groundskeeper takes his job super seriously and offed 'em?"

"I dunno about that, but there's a ton of abandoned mines all over the area. Plenty of places to hide a body."

"Well now we _have_ to go up there."

"The mines are dangerous, Dean. One of them just collapsed recently. I say we just stick around and keep track of whatever employees keep grounds at night. There's probably more than one."

"If this ain't our kinda job, don't you think it'd be faster to find a body and notify the cops?"

"What if the groundskeeper isn't human?" Sam suggested. "Bobby got a weird feeling about this place for a reason. I think we should stick around and do this right. Besides, weren't you all excited about the snowmobiles?"

The discussion ended in the both of them hiking back into the ghost town, Sam hauling the duffle with their shovels, salt and lighter fluid. They had veered off the public trail so they could have a better chance getting onto the grounds without alerting whoever was keeping watch. They let the moon light up their path, opting not to use flashlights, as that could give them away.

"You said a mine recently collapsed, right?" Dean said. "What if that was the trigger?" 

"Like someone died in there and the collapse disturbed the grave? I guess it's possible. The disappearances started around that time." He pulled out his phone and pulled up the map he'd downloaded. "It's near the back end of the town closest to us. Oh crap...I can't believe I missed this."

"What?" Dean turned to him where he'd paused in his steps.

"One of the missing people is a 36 year old man named Tom Blaken. He's an excavation specialist..."

"Lemme guess. Hired to clean up that mine."

"Went missing before he even got started the night he got here..."

Sure enough, when they reached the area of the collapsed mine there was a front loader parked nearby. The collapsed ground was taped off and larger than either of them had suspected.

"Man, it's too bad we can't just use the damn dozer," Dean grumbled as they both started digging in different spots.

"First off," Sam replied. "No keys. Secondly..."

"Too much noise. Yeah yeah. Are we even gonna get through all this before morning?"

"If we're lucky, we won't need to dig all of it," Sam replied. "I can't believe no one's already started digging this up."

"For what?" Dean asked. "This thing collapsed before anyone went missing. Not like somebody can fall through this mess."

"Assuming there _is_ a miner in here and he's responsible for the disappearances, forget the fact that he never came out before now, what's his motivation? Why take random people?"

"Ghosts aren't always so organized, Sammy. Besides, it might not even be a ghost we're lookin' for, remember? No signs of anything so far." They glanced over at the silent EMF reader they had turned on and left on top of the duffle.

*~.~*

A couple hours later, the boys were sitting on the ledge of the crater they'd dug, taking a drink from a water bottle. Sam looked over at the yellow front loader across the other side of the ditch, wishing they could use it now, too.

"Man, I am so not filling this thing back in when we're done," Dean said. Sam snorted a small laugh, swinging a leg that was starting to fall asleep over the ledge. The heel of his boot hit something hard in the wall of dirt, and he furrowed his brows before jumping back into the hole to inspect it. He did pull out his flashlight for this one.

"Hey, I think I found something," he told Dean. "Looks like a wooden handle or something. Here," he said as he grabbed Dean's discarded shovel and handed it up to him. "Start digging right where I was sitting."

Dean got to his feet. "You sure it's a handle and not just a piece of tree root? 'Cause my blisters are starting to get blisters."

"It's not a root," Sam said as he started digging at the earth with his hands for a moment before grabbing his own shovel.

"Could be a pick axe," Dean suggested as he stomped his shovel into the grass, stepping it deep into the earth. "I mean, it's an old mine after all."

"Yeah," Sam said as he cleared more of the handle out and stopped to examine it further. "But there's blood on this one," he told him.

"Blood?"

"Yeah. Old stain, but it's there."

"Oh...check this out," Dean said with a grin as he pulled an old leather hat from the newly unearthed clump beneath him. Suddenly the EMF reader was screaming, and he shot his gaze over to it as he breathed out, his breath turning white in front of him right as he felt the sudden chill in the air. "Sam!" he warned, then felt himself violently tossed away from where he'd been digging.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, reaching for the gun he had tucked in the back of his pants. He whipped around when the roar of an engine started up, headlights from the front loader shining above him from the other side of the ditch, rays eerily casting over the huge pile of dirt they'd pulled from the ground. His eyes widened when it started to move, and he tucked the gun back away before attempting to dive for cover on one side of the hole, but to his horror, the lights followed him, and before he could get back to his feet, the dirt was pouring in, beating over him like a huge waterfall. "Dean!" he yelled out once more, panicking as he couldn't move.

"Sam!" Dean shouted as he managed to get back up and run toward his brother.

"Burn the bones, Dean!" he shouted, and Dean could hear him beginning to cough. After a frozen moment of watching the dirt quickly bury his brother, Dean was suddenly thrown into action, digging in the same spot he had been before the ghostly presence showed up.

The front loader's lights went out when the engine killed, and as much as Dean wanted to look up, he fought to continue digging. That's when he felt, rather than saw the spirit appear beside him. His heart skipped, and then out of nowhere came the sound of a gunshot, and the thing vanished before he could even look up and see its face.

Dean turned toward where the shot came from, and there stood a gray-haired man with a beard that hit the top button of his uniform. Dean raised his hands up, the shovel still in one. "Look, mister, I'm guessing you know something about what just happened, since whatever you shot him with made him go away. So I'm just gonna keep on diggin' up his bones if that's okay with you, because we need to salt 'n burn this asshole so I can dig my brother outta that frickin' hole over there. So...shoot me if you want, but at least dig him out!" Without waiting for a reply, Dean went back to digging.

"I take it you're one 'a them ghost hunters," the man replied, no longer aiming at Dean, but glancing around with his gun ready. "Found this shotgun salt round thing on a website after this weird stuff started happening. No one believes what I've been seein' up here." He shot off another round.

Dean didn't have to dig long before realizing the bones were in a fetal position, the clothing stuck around them like a blanket, and the bloody pick axe beside him. He quickly doused everything with lighter fluid and pulled out a zippo, dropping it into the pile of bones.

"That gets rid 'a them, right?" the man asked.

"Listen, I need your help to dig out my brother now, can you do that?" He didn't wait for an answer as he jumped down into the ditch and began frantically digging. "Sam!" he yelled, pushing the dirt with superhuman like strength as the other guy Dean had figured must be the groundskeeper was beside him doing the same. "Sammy!" he called out again.

His palm hit something hard, and Dean saw the tip of Sam's boot. He quickly dug around it as fast as his hands would let him, finding his jean-covered calve. "Sammy, c'mon! You hear me?" He began to tug, finding Sam's other leg and grabbing onto it as well. Sam wasn't moving. He wasn't struggling to help get himself out. He was still. Lifeless.

"Fuck! Sammy!" he shouted as he strained to pull, the groundskeeper now digging out where the rest of Sam likely was. Finally, Sam's body began to budge, and Dean pulled him the rest of the way out. He immediately sought out his little brother's face. At some point before the dirt had overcome him, Sam had thrown his arms over his face, and Dean pulled them away to frantically search for a pulse. He found one, slow but steady, then proceeded to smack Sam's chest a few times, patting his face as he tried to get him to open his eyes.

"C'mon, Sammy. Gotta wake up. Gotta breathe, little brother. Sam!" Suddenly Sam was taking a deep noisy breath, scrambling for purchase as his eyes opened wide. "Sammy?" Dean gripped his shoulders as he tried to get him to focus. "You with me?"

Sam's eyes trailed over to Dean's. "Dean..." And Dean pulled him into a hug, the relief flowing through him like electricity. "Did you get 'im?" he asked, still breathing hard.

"We got him," Dean replied. "Thanks to our new friend here," he said, pulling away as he looked over at the groundskeeper.

"You did me a huge favor gettin' rid a' that thing," the man told him. "I was happy to help."

"Be even more helpful if you can manage to come up with a believable excuse for this mess," Dean told him, then looked back to his brother who seemed in a bit of a daze.

"Don't worry about that," he replied. "They already think I'm crazy." He grinned. "You can come get cleaned up at my station," he offered. "Got stew cookin' too, if yer hungry. I take it you boys'll be headin' out soon, after this."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great. Whatcha think, Sam?"

*~.~*

"Doin' okay in there?" Dean asked through the bathroom door of Jerry the groundskeeper's station house.

"I'm fine, Dean," he replied, and Dean could HEAR the eye roll. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Food's ready, man," Dean told him. Sam could hear Dean's excited smile.

The faucet turned off in the shower, and Dean headed back to the table where Jerry was ladling out two bowls of stew. Sam came out of the bathroom dressed in the clothes he came in with, drying his hair with a small towel.

"I'm gonna go on back over to the site and try to clean up a bit," Jerry told them. "If you want, I can come back in a bit and give you a lift back down to the hotel."

"That'd be great, man," Dean told him.

"Yeah. Thanks, Jerry," Sam added. "And thanks for the grub."

"Not a problem. Y'all eat up, now. See ya shortly." They watched the man head out on his four wheeler.

"Smells good," Sam said as he sat down at the table across from Dean, who already had a mouthful. Dean nodded, but then slowly his face changed. Sam watched him curiously for a moment as he held his spoon. Dean swallowed, then he looked up at Sam with slightly widened eyes before reaching over and knocking Sam's bowl to the floor. "Dean, what the hell?!"

"Somethin' in it, dude," he replied, trying to spit it back into the bowl, whatever he hadn't already swallowed.

"What?"

"Need somethin' to drink, man, check the fridge. I dunno, man, it tastes funny. Got an aftertaste like...medicine."

Sam opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, then stood and opened the freezer. "Um...Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when we thought it was the groundskeeper taking people?"

"Uhh...yeah," he said as he stood up and walked over to where Sam stood. In the freezer were bags of what looked like cut up limbs, all labeled with the date the first man went missing. Dean turned around and threw up in the sink. "Did I just eat people-stew?!" He heaved again.

"Oh god..." Sam grimaced and closed the freezer, reaching in his pocket for his phone. Of course, no signal. "Dean, we gotta get the cops out here."

"Why do we always stumble across the cannibals, huh?"

They both froze when they heard a muffled voice. Without a word, the both followed it, leading them to a locked door off of the kitchen. Dean picked up a hammer from a nearby shelf and broke the lock off before opening it up. On the other side of the door was a set of stairs leading to a basement of some kind.

"Hello?" Sam shouted. "Is someone down there?" It was silent for a few moments.

"We're here to help you," Dean added. Another faint voice sounded, and they moved down the steps carefully, flashlights out. It didn't take long for them to find the girl whose arms were tied over her head from the ceiling. Beside her was a man tied in a similar fashion. He seemed to be unconscious.

"Hey," Sam said to the girl. "We're gonna get you outta here, okay?" The frightened girl nodded as Sam began untying the ropes, Dean doing the same for the other guy who was starting to wake up.

"Hey, man, before you go all defensive on me, we're here to help, okay?" Dean told the guy as he tried to focus on the man in front of him.

"David?" the girl, now freed, reached out to the man's face. "Are you okay?"

"Livy?"

The girl, Livy, turned to their rescuers. "That psychopath beat the hell out of him yesterday. This is the first he's woken up."

"Is there anyone else here?" Dean asked.

"There...was this one guy when we got here," she replied, "But he...I think he killed him," she said as her eyes filled with tears. "We gotta get outta here before he comes back..."

"Can you walk?" he asked her. She nodded. "Okay, how 'bout you, pal?" David shrugged, then moved to stand up.

"Yeah...yeah I think I can," he said.

"Great. Let's get you two outta this place, then we'll go find Hannibal Lecter and tie his ass up till the cops can come deal with him." Dean began to lead the way. They got out of the basement and right outside the front door when he spotted Jerry.

"I really wish you hadn't gone snooping," he said with a disappointed look on his face.

"Get back inside," he told the two kids they'd just almost rescued, then pulled his gun out.

"Now, Dean," Jerry said shaking his head as he held his gun up back at him. "I thought we were friends."

"Just tell me one thing, you creepy old bastard," Dean said. "Did you just feed us long-pig?"

Jerry's mouth curled up into a sickly smile. "Sharing is caring."

"You sick sonofabitch," Sam stepped forward with his own gun aimed on Jerry.

"Tell me," Jerry said. "Before you knew what it was, wasn't it delicious?"

"Why the hell are you standing there with guns drawn on you, eggin' us on like we won't shoot you?" Dean asked.

"Well I don't think you will, actually," he said. "I think you're getting pretty sleepy, actually."

Sam looked at him with a bit of confusion until he heard Dean grumble, "Goddamnit..." Dean's vision was swimming in front of him and his balance was suddenly being affected. "Sam, I might be a little screwed here..."

Sam only glanced at Dean before aiming his gun at Jerry's head as the man started to approach them. "Don't you come any closer!" Sam shouted at him. Jerry's mistake was in assuming both boys had eaten his special recipe, so he cockily continued forward. Sam aimed for the hand Jerry held the gun in and fired. Jerry barely yelled out at the fresh wound, pausing only momentarily to look down at it, before setting his sights back on Sam and stalking forward once more. Sam swung a heavy punch at him, knocking him out cold in the process.

"Sam? Y-you okay?" Dean asked from where he now sat on the ground, leaning back against the house as his eyes desperately tried to stay open and focus.

"Yeah..."

*~.~*

Sam had quickly packed up their things and were helped by Livy and David getting Dean down to the car. This, of course, after duct taping Jerry up like a cocoon and tying him to the tree in the front yard. He was still unconscious when they left him. He'd loaded all of their things from the room into the Impala and handed the room key to the couple they'd saved.

"Call the police," Sam told them. "Tell them everything that happened, but if you can help it, don't tell them much about us. Just uh...say a guy came along and set you free and you don't know what else happened before he was gone again. What matters is that this guy gets what's coming to him, and for the people that didn't make it, their families can have closure."

"I can't thank you enough for saving us," David told him. "He drugged our food to knock us out, and we woke up down there tied up. We were his reserves. You know, for when he ran out..."

"He seemed like a nice old man. Invited us to dinner and everything... How can we ever repay you?" Livy asked.

Sam shook his head. "Just keep on living," he told her as he reached into his jacket pocket. "And if you ever need help again...if something weird happens, you just give me a call, okay?"

He left the two in the room when he drove out of town, Dean still groggy in the passenger seat whining. "I threw that crap up, man," he said. "Why is this hittin' me so hard?"

"He probably loaded it down. It's how he got the others," Sam told him.

"But I didn't... ugh."

"Just go to sleep, Dean. I'll wake you up when we stop for food."

"Ugh...ugh, Sam, no. Don't...don't talk about food. I'ma puke again..."

 **~Fin~**


End file.
